


The Heart is a Lonely Satellite

by somedaysomewhere



Category: X1 (Korea Band)
Genre: Aged-Up Character(s), Alternate Universe - Modern Setting, Alternate Universe - Office, Alternate Universe - Space, Astronaut!Seungwoo, Astronomer!Seungyoun, Falling In Love, Friendship, M/M, Outer Space, side yohangyul
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-02-24
Updated: 2020-04-25
Packaged: 2021-02-27 19:47:37
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 5
Words: 16,624
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/22881244
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/somedaysomewhere/pseuds/somedaysomewhere
Summary: If one looked hard enough, one could always find the stars.
Relationships: Cho Seungyeon | Seungyoun/Han Seungwoo
Comments: 24
Kudos: 117





	1. Chapter 1

**DAY 001 – AUGUST 27, 2019**

If one looked hard enough, one could always find the stars. 

Stars are Seungyoun’s specialty. Planets, non-Earthly phenomena, the otherworldly. As an astronomer, it’s his job to observe heavenly bodies. He spends most of his time determining how they formed, evolved and died. His everyday tools include satellites and telescopes.

Because the lifetime of worlds and galaxies span millions to billions of years, astronomers are unable to observe a system entirely from its birth to death, making them rely on simulations and theories to produce tangible evidence. In addition to patience, imagination is also needed. Seungyoun has to form hypotheses that complement the data he’s presented with. It’s not easy, but it’s rewarding whenever he finds the reason behind a circumstance. In Science, there’s a rationale for everything. 

Quantum Leap is his latest task, a project that aims to explain the effects of long-term space travel on the human body. It's their most ambitious program yet: three astronauts will live in space for five months as the changes are studied through physiological, behavioral and molecular lenses. Research will continue up to a year after the launch date.

“I’ll let you see your office first,” says Lee Dongwook, the flight director of Quantum Leap. “Thank you for your cooperation despite the short notice.” Seungyoun was assigned last minute after a pregnant colleague bowed out. She was advised to go on bed rest because of threatened miscarriage.

Seungyoun shakes his head. “No. I’m actually grateful that you considered me for this opportunity,” he replies earnestly. It’ll be his first time to join a mission with a crewed spaceflight. Usually, he oversees unmanned operations.

“You’re skilled. I thought it was time to present you with a bigger role,” Dongwook states, holding Seungyoun’s right shoulder. “However, I also want you to focus. By the end of next year, we’ll open a training for those who are interested in space exploration. I’d like you to consider it.”

He trembles at the possibility. “Ah, I will.”

Dongwook turns serious. “Many of our astronauts are about to reach their radiation exposure limits. We need a fresh set of individuals. I hope Quantum Leap will be enough to assist you in making a sound decision. Don’t feel too pressured though and as always, feel free to ask me questions.”

“Yes. I’ll think about it carefully, you can count on that,” Seungyoun assures, his tone level and sincere.

“I’ll leave for real now,” remarks Dongwook, pushing the glass door. Before he’s fully out, he turns around to face him again. “Don’t forget to head out for the orientation.” He then moves away, letting the door swing on its own until it comes to a stop.

Seungyoun walks around his new office. It’s surrounded by glass walls, providing an uninterrupted view of the entire floor. There isn't much inside—only drawers, stacks of papers and a table with several gadgets on it. A plant would be a great addition. He notes to bring a succulent tomorrow.

He turns on the computer, enters his login details and waits for the home screen to load. It’s still empty with only a dock and no icons. He then proceeds to create multiple folders, naming them according to future use (e.g., Daily Logs, Voice Recordings). An influx of files is expected and he wants to stay as organized as possible.

In his peripheral vision, he spots a group of eight people standing before the panels and supercomputers. A few seconds later, the number triples and the floor becomes full. He makes eye contact with Dongwook who beckons him over with a nod. It’s time to know the people he’s going to work with.

“The liftoff is in three hours. You’ve been briefed about your duties days ago so I’m assuming everyone is ready,” Dongwook begins, his stance commanding attention and respect. “As we wait, I’m going to do a roll call of the entire crew.”

Seungyoun counts twenty-four other people in total. He doesn’t recognize any of them except for Kim Wooseok, another astronomer assigned to his department.

“Let me introduce myself. I’m Lee Dongwook, the project lead and Quantum Leap’s flight director,” he bows before continuing. “I have the overall accountability for all decisions regarding a safe and successful spaceflight. I’ll be monitoring every flight controller and relying on your advice.

The place we’re currently in is the Mission Control Center (MCC). Those who have been on similar missions before are familiar with how MCC operates. We have five rows of chairs, all designated depending on your position. The front row is in charge of orbital guidance and changes, procedures of fast-paced phases of flight, and the computers and systems of MCC itself.

The second row carries the propulsion system, mechanical systems, and fuel cells, electrical distribution and O2 & H2 supplies. The third manages the computer systems, payload-related steps, overall plans for the entire flight, and environmental systems. The fourth row handles the communication systems necessary to upload all systems commands to the vehicle. It also houses the flight director and the capsule communicator, or the only controller allowed to converse with the astronauts on board.

Lastly, the back row will provide commentary to supplement and explain air-to-ground transmissions and flight control operations to media and the public. It will also monitor and evaluate aspects of the vehicle during pre-launch and ascent, and all tasks, equipment and plans related to spacewalking. A flight surgeon will also be on standby to direct all medical activities during the program. Is everyone still with me?”

A resounding “Yes, Sir” echoes on the floor.

Dongwook reaches for a glass of water and goes back to explaining once he finishes drinking. “Each row will be led by one or two controllers. Kim Wooseok for the first row, Song Hyeongjun and Cha Junho for the second, Lee Eunsang and Nam Dohyon for the third, and Son Dongpyo for the last row. We have Kang Minhee as our Flight Surgeon and Cho Seungyoun as Capsule Communicator. They both have separate offices where a secure communication channel can be established, in case the astronauts want privacy and to provide doctor-patient confidentiality.

That’s pretty much it. We have more experts and flight controllers in the Multi-purpose Support Room (MPSR). According to the chain of command, information and recommendations will flow from the MPSR to the MCC and then, potentially, to the onboard crew. You can tell me anything anytime. In fact, I’d prefer it if you don’t leave anything untouched. It’s our team’s responsibility to ensure that our astronauts get to land back. Is that understood?”

A booming “Yes, Sir” is heard once again.

Dongwook glances at the clock. “There’s two hours left. The astronauts are preparing and we should as well. Everyone, disperse.”

Seungyoun moves to his seat. While his function doesn’t require too much technical involvement, he is still expected to share his opinions and expertise. The room goes silent, and only the sounds of clicking keyboards can be heard. The setups are rechecked, booted and offloaded. They can’t afford any miscalculations.

“Half an hour left,” Dongwook shouts, booming around the space. “Capcom, please contact the astronauts.”

Seungyoun connects to the spacecraft. “Good day, Sirs. This is Cho Seungyoun speaking, Capcom of Quantum Leap. The flight director would like an update about your current condition.”

The response is fast. “Good day. This is Han Seungwoo, Commander of spacecraft Quantum-X1. I am strapped in alongside two Flight Engineers, Kim Yohan and Lee Hangyul. All of our systems are enabled and ready.”

He relays the answer before returning to the call. “Good to know, Sir Han. You’ll be launched in thirty minutes. I’ll hang up now. Please standby.”

Dongpyo, their Public Affairs Officer, turns his microphone on. “In a few, Quantum-X1 is set to depart with the help of a launch vehicle known as Flash. The launch from Site 1 in ZZ Cosmodrome will take place as scheduled on August 27, 2019, at 18:00:00 Eastern Time. Flash will lift the 7,711-kilogram Quantum-X1 spacecraft with astronauts Han Seungwoo, Kim Yohan and Lee Hangyul, who are bound for the International Space Station (ISS),” he announces. 

Seungyoun recounts in his head. Did he miss anything? His hands are sweaty despite the air conditioning.

“Fifth row, status,” Dongwook yells, signaling the start of the launch.

“All clear, Sir. Go,” the mentioned crew responds.

“Fourth row.”

“Go, Sir,” says Seungyoun.

“Third and second?”

“Go, Sir. Clear.”

“First row?”

“Sir, all clear. Go.”

“All clear. Everyone, let’s send these men to space.”

Seungyoun watches as various buttons and levers are shifted by the flight controllers. From the screen, he sees the bottom of the spacecraft igniting. In just seconds, Quantum-X1 is hoisted off the ground, leaving clouds of thick smoke in its wake.

It’s like a movie scene and he would’ve held his breath if he didn’t have things to accomplish.

The ISS transmits signals at 145.80 MHz and receives signals at either 144.49 or 145.20 MHz, depending on its orbital location. He tweaks the radio until it’s near the 145 megahertz frequency, targeting the best network possible. It’s nine minutes later when it picks up something.

He immediately connects to the phone line. “Quantum-X1, this is Capcom. Do you hear me?”

There is static at first and then a voice. “Yes. I’m pleased to report—we are in space.”

The entire floor erupts in celebration. He congratulates who he assumes to be Seungwoo, judging from how he sounded during their earlier conversation. “I’m glad to hear that. We’ll give you time to adjust. Please send a signal if you need anything.” 

“Copy, Capcom. This is Commander, by the way.” Ah, he was right. “Thank you.” 

He scans the data that was just uploaded to their database. _Following a standard ascent profile along the ground track matching an inclination of 51.67 degrees toward the Equator, Quantum-X1 separated from the third stage of Flash at 18:09:22.10 Eastern Time into a 200 by 242-kilometer orbit._

“With this successful launch, Quantum Leap has officially commenced,” Dongwook declares, staring at each flight controller one by one.

Seungyoun feels proud. He hasn’t seen anything like this before and the goosebumps won’t leave him. But while shooting space may be a big feat, for the crew, this is just the beginning.


	2. Chapter 2

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Some people only want the world. For him, it’s not enough.

**DAY 002 – AUGUST 28, 2019**

Seungyoun brings the mug closer to his nose, letting the bitter smell of coffee overwhelm his senses. He hasn’t slept a wink for twenty-seven hours ongoing, and there’s a slight discomfort on his back and legs from sitting all day. The first twelve hours of a launch are the most crucial—there’s only one opportunity to get it right and a million other ways to be wrong.

Fortunately, they were successful. Quantum-X1 followed a five-orbit, six-hour rendezvous profile, including one engine firing during the first orbit and three additional maneuvers during the second orbit to reach the International Space Station (ISS). An autonomous rendezvous process led to a final approach sequence at 20:11:28, including a flyaround of the station, a station-keeping and berthing. The docking took place at 22:36:15 in the zenith-pointing Y compartment of ISS. Because there were no major drawbacks, the astronauts were able to board the station as scheduled on August 28, 01:13:32 Eastern Time. 

It’s been an hour since the spacecraft landed on the ISS. The next objective is to build plans and daily routines. The team wants to maximize the five-month stay by inserting small projects in between. Outer space is a vast nothingness, and the space station crew will be bored to death if they don’t have tasks to keep them busy.

Seungyoun goes over the instructions while waiting for the crew to dial in. The ISS has an internet-connected phone system that astronauts use to call a number on Earth. They’re preferred over radios due to the clarity of their connection. The only downside: phones from the ground can’t call back.

A sharp ring startles him. He picks up immediately, his attention taken away from the file he’s reading. “Hello, Capsule Communicator Cho Seungyoun speaking. Please introduce yourself.”

“Yes. This is Quantum-X1’s Commander Han Seungwoo,” a soft voice replies. “We’re ready for further instructions.”

“Good morning. The Flight Director wants to know how you’re doing.” Seungyoun transfers the handset to his right ear to hear better.

“We’re safe. Still disoriented from the change in gravity, but we’ll adjust soon.”

“Oh, I heard that’s a usual reaction. If you’re too unwell, we can talk again after a few minutes,” he suggests, worried about the Commander’s health.

“No, I’m fine,” assures Seungwoo.

Seungyoun purses his lips while scanning the document. “Okay, if you say so. We already sent the list of your side missions, but I’m going to repeat the contents for recording purposes. There are no specific timeframes for these, just that they have to be finished before you depart.”

“Copy, Capcom. Go on.”

“These are your additional jobs: installation of gap spanners and fasteners, removal of plasma sensors, replacement of antenna, sampling of microorganisms, and other standard changing and cleaning duties. Please inform us before starting any task so we can track and guide you if necessary.”

“Sure, we’ll do that. Anyway, regarding our schedule, we’d like to request a six-hour rest per day, preferably from 22:00:00 to 04:00:00 Eastern Time. We’ll be open for contact of course, but we’ll halt all activities.”

Seungyoun relays the response to Dongwook who quickly agrees. “The Flight Director is fine with it. Do you have any more requests?”

“Hm, none as of the moment. But I’ll call again in case my fellow astronauts think of something. Thanks, capcom. We’ll start the projects soon.”

“Godspeed, Commander. Our lines are open anytime.” Seungyoun hangs up and opens a word processor program to transcribe the conversation that just transpired. He reaches for his coffee, only to find it lukewarm. The twelve-hour mark is almost over. Finally, there will be room to breathe.

  
  
  
  


**DAY 003 – AUGUST 29, 2019**

Fluorescent lights make everyone look ghostly. This is what Seungyoun concludes after minutes of observing.

It’s a slow day. The astronauts were given another twelve-hour period to fully acclimate to their new environment. This means little to no activity aside from the usual monitoring by flight controllers. Seungyoun rechecks his log for the nth time. There’s nothing more to add.

He doesn’t do well with idleness. He is used to quandaries and equations weighing on his mind. His previous work required a great deal of concentration; it rarely gave his hands a chance to be empty.

So he observes—the 64.4°F air, his 1,119 cm² work desk, the light bulb dwindling between 50-60 Hz.

Dongwook hands him a folder, interrupting his reverie. “Capcom, please review this and disseminate it to the onboard crew.”

“Got it, Sir,” he responds, immediately going to work. It probably won’t take long, but it’s better than being unoccupied.

  
  
  
  


**DAY 004 – AUGUST 30, 2019**

“Good day, Capcom.”

“Good day, Commander. Status, please.”

“Still docked and safe. We’re about to conduct a spacewalk to the Obstanovka installation.”

“Okay. Let me have it mapped and I’ll get back to you,” Seungyoun answers, checking his monitor. He covers the phone’s mouthpiece before turning to his left. “Sir, they’re going to Obstanovka.”

Dongwook nods. “Fifth row, please check the conditions of the site.”

”No problems here, Sir,” declares Dongpyo, the assigned head of the row. “The temperatures are ideal and we’re not expecting any wind or asteroid.”

Seungyoun returns to the call. “Alright, you’re cleared for spacewalk. Have you received the coordinates we sent?”

“Yes, we did,” Seungwoo says, concise and abrupt. “We’ll go now. I’ll give an update once we finish.”

Today’s task for the space station crew is to remove the plasma sensor from the Obstanovka Plasma-Wave Experiment. It was installed back in 2017, with the goal of studying the interaction between the ISS and the space plasma environment in low-Earth orbit. Seungyoun briefly helped with the program when it commenced, sharing his knowledge about particles and electric fields.

It’s been nine years since he started working for the space sciences. He always knew he was going to end up in this place, one way or another. It entailed a ton of all-nighters, hardwork and literal tears, but here he is, years later, still smitten with everything the universe has to offer. 

Some people only want the world. For him, it’s not enough.

Everyone is focused on the ongoing side mission. The data relay satellite tracks the movements of the astronauts, ensuring their visibility and safety. Seungyoun follows the transmissions on the room’s widescreen and deduces that a contact will be made in three hours. In the meantime, he prepares the next set of instructions to be forwarded.

  
  
  
  


**DAY 007 – SEPTEMBER 02, 2019**

A takeout bag is placed on his desk. Seungyoun looks up and sees Dongwook with his arms folded.

“You’ve been eating nothing but burgers,” he chides, rising an eyebrow. “I brought you a chicken wrap. I thought you needed a healthier option.”

Seungyoun feels the blood rush to his cheeks. “Sir, you didn’t have to. I swear I was planning to have something different today,” he apologizes, contrite over ignoring something crucial.

Dongwook chuckles, his head tossing back from laughter. “Don’t look so scared. I was partly kidding. But please eat better, okay? We don’t want anyone getting sick,” he says as he drops to his seat beside Seungyoun.

“Yes, I understand.”

“How are you holding up?”

“A lot better than I expected,” Seungyoun confesses, comfortable with sharing such things to the older. “I didn’t think I could keep up with the pace.”

“It’s different from Research, no?” 

Seungyoun grins. “Very,” he agrees, understanding the sacrifices they have to make. “While research may have deadlines, I can always take a break in the middle of analyzing. With active exploration, sometimes I’m even afraid to blink.”

“That feeling doesn’t go away, honestly. Our jobs center around precision. Not allowing errors is honoring the people who trusted us with their lives.”

A glance at the digital clock confirms it’s 03:41:11. The astronauts are resting which means it’s downtime for the Mission Control Center as well. During this period, the Multi-purpose Support Room takes over their duties. 

He looks around the floor. Most heads are bowed down in attempts of catching forty winks. Thankfully, Seungyoun was able to sleep for four hours, a feat from yesterday’s two. In a few, the MCC will be back at the helm. He rolls his neck, readying for another day in front of his computer.

“I was also a Capsule Communicator before,” Dongwook says, taking a bite of his own food.

Seungyoun’s brows go up in surprise. “Really?”

“Yes. A lot think the job is easy because we talk most of the time. But the Capcom is the link between ground and outer space, and it’s our responsibility to guarantee that information is imparted correctly and that all conversations remain concise and civil.”

“That’s true. It’s a different kind of pressure,” admits Seungyoun.

“At the end of the day, a team will have its differences. We don’t have to reveal everything at once, especially if it can potentially cause a rift. It’s up to us which issues to raise and when to address them,” Dongwook continues, his wisdom evident. “It’s also up to us to make sure that the astronauts’ mental health state are at their best.”

“Is that why we have a separate office when needed?”

“Yes. From my experience, outer space inspires a myriad of emotions: awe, humility, insignificance, loneliness. This is especially true for first time flyers. It’s important for them to have someone to bare these emotions to—privately, if desired.”

Seungyoun processes what he just heard. More than anything, he has to encourage and establish trust. So far, he has only talked to Han Seungwoo. There are two left.

His friends would constantly remark about how easy it was to tell him things. As a result, he knew most of their conundrums and how their days went. He hopes to form something similar with the onboard crew—even a fraction will do.

He can’t help but wonder: when they’re comfortable, what kind of stories do astronauts share? 

  
  



	3. Chapter 3

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> “Can you see yourself in space?"
> 
> “I’m not going to lie. I long for it. Whether it actually happens, who knows?”

**DAY 014 – SEPTEMBER 09, 2019**

“FDO, this is Trajectory,” Lee Eunsang calls, focusing on the map on his end.

“FDO speaking,” replies Kim Wooseok, the Flight Dynamics Officer.

“I need to run an M40 maneuver.”

“Proceed.”

Eunsang refers to the numbers on his computer. “H is 65.382. Theta is 109.850. Prop is 6,333. C-one is 15,808 and C-two is -6,345. Target TIG is 38:33:34. Guidance mode: PEG4-Deorbit. Delta-V and Delta-T overrides are zero.”

“Copy,” Wooseok says, entering the digits into the system via terminal. “Trajectory, your M40 is up on channel twenty-nine.”

With the International Space Station (ISS) orbiting the Earth every 90 minutes, it’s important for a spacecraft to have emergency landing sites around the world. Quantum-X1 has six, and Lee Eunsang, the Trajectory Officer, is in charge of figuring out how the spacecraft will deorbit in order to land safely. This data is generated for every orbit in the mission and is sent to the space station crew in “blocks.” It’s a crucial undertaking—the block data is stored for future use by the crew, such as in cases where they have to get down but are without communication with the Mission Control Center (MCC); for example, during a fire or a meteoroid puncture.

Seungyoun watches as twenty-nine is punched on the lower left screen. He verifies if the inputs are correct, if the outputs make sense and uploads it to the database for later access. It’s their responsibility to be vigilant, but hopefully, there won’t be a use for this information anytime soon.

  
  
  
  


**DAY 021 – SEPTEMBER 16, 2019**

“Capcom, this is Commander. Both airlock doors are shut. We’re now outside of the spacecraft,” Seungwoo announces.

“Copy. On the left zenith, you’ll find the antennae on the port side.”

“Yeah, I see it.”

“There are twelve of them. You have to install fasteners to antennae 1-5 and replace antenna 6,” Seungyoun instructs, referring to the database. “Take care and make sure you’re tethered at all times. Contact the ground if you encounter anything unexpected.” He pushes a button at the base of the tabletop microphone, effectively muting his end.

After fifteen hours of preparation, Quantum Leap is pushing through with another spacewalk. Today’s job is for the ISS antennae, a vital tool for radio communication systems. The mission entails quite an amount of drillwork. By estimate, it will roughly take five hours. This is the second of the three planned extravehicular activities of the program—it’s also the hardest because the astronauts have to reach a high point of 30 feet.

Seungyoun focuses on the computer screen, arranging the data provided by flight controllers concisely and chronologically. He has no time to waste. The file needs to be collated before the spacewalk concludes. 

_The slope indicates that the astronauts will use an average of 87.970 psi of oxygen tank pressure for every hour of the spacewalk. The y-intercept indicates that the regression model predicts the astronauts’ starting oxygen tank pressure at 873.081 psi._

_p = -87.970t + 873.081_   
_p = -87.970(7) + 873.081_   
_p = 257.291 psi_

_Since there is still 257.291 psi of oxygen left before depletion, the astronauts’ tanks are fit for the extravehicular activity._

He’s on the twelfth page when he receives a ping. He picks up the headset and wears it securely. The line has barely connected when a voice comes in. “Capcom, we have a bit of a problem.”

“Commander? Are you okay?,” Seungyoun inquires, anxious about the sudden contact.

“Astronaut Lee Hangyul’s right glove has a gash. I think it’s about 4 cm,” Seungwoo replies, voice low and discouraged.

He forwards the message to Dongwook who mouths his command. “Flight Director asks you to return to the ISS.”

“I can stay and continue the remaining tasks.”

Seungyoun sighs inaudibly, anticipating the incoming situation. “The order is to board the station.”

“But we aren't finished yet, and my suit doesn’t have any malfunction.”

“Commander, the Flight Director’s order is to board the station.”

Seungwoo doesn’t respond. Seungyoun takes the chance to diffuse the tension before it heightens. “I’ll enumerate the coordinates. Please make your way back safely, and give me a summary of the events anytime you’re settled. If you have reservations, you can reach my direct phone. 85 is the local. The team won’t overhear our conversation.”

A 4 cm gash on daily clothing is considered insignificant. Sometimes, it even goes unnoticed. However, spacesuits are different. They are pressurized to protect against outer space conditions, and a tear or puncture can have fatal consequences.

An immediate concern in the event of a suit part being damaged is the loss of breathable air. If a suit is to rapidly depressurize, an astronaut will pass out after about 15 seconds—the time a body takes to use up its oxygen. Human flesh also expands to twice its normal size in a vacuumized environment. Without the pressurization provided by a spacesuit, body fluids will boil as its gases expand. If the lack of oxygen doesn’t kill a person, this surely will.

He proceeds to his private office. From what he heard, strains between the two heads are usual. With full accountability on his shoulders, the Flight Director tends to err on the side of caution. The Commander, who does the exploration firsthand, has his own judgments on what his crew can handle. It’s the Capsule Communicator’s duty to streamline both sides. 

Seungyoun waits while staring at a succulent. He can read people well, and he’s pretty sure that Seungwoo was upset. 

As expected, his phone rings.

“Capcom, this is Commander,” Seungwoo says softly. “Are you there?”

“Yes,” Seungyoun answers, surveying the papers on his desk. “How’s the crew?”

“We’re now inside the ISS. Everyone is unharmed. The compromised glove is already discarded.”

“Can you narrate what happened?”

"We were at the final stage of putting the fasteners when Hangyul called out to me and showed the tear. I could see the surface under the Vectran material," explains Seungwoo. “We’re not sure where it came from.”

“It’s fine. Don’t worry too much about it.”

Seungwoo exhales before speaking. “We weren’t able to do the replacing for antenna 6, but 1-5 are over and done with. In my opinion, we could’ve kept Hangyul near the airlock to perform some needed jobs in that area. It would’ve given him the opportunity to do useful work while being close enough to get back inside if the hole led to an actual leak situation. Or as I said earlier, I was fine with working alone.”

“It was the right call, Commander,” Seungyoun counters, protective of the Flight Director and the space crew’s lives itself. “If a cut that size had penetrated the innermost pressurized layer of the suit, it would’ve been harder to deal with.”

“But we didn’t finish because of the order.”

“Tasks, while important, are still just tasks. At the end of the day, the team would rather have you safe.”

“It’s just…,” Seungwoo trails, hestitating.

Seungyoun has a hunch about what’s bothering Seungwoo. However, he’d rather have him admit it himself.

“Being unable to fulfill what was asked of me feels like a failure.” _Bingo._

“First of all, we have a third spacewalk left. What wasn’t done today can be carried over to that phase. Second, the only way this project will fail is when we don’t get our astronauts back. Our main goal concerns your bodies, remember? Work on being alive and Quantum Leap will be a success.” He wonders if he’s being too harsh, but then again, they’re not fragile twenty-somethings who can’t handle a little scolding.

Surprisingly, Seungwoo chuckles softly. “That was refreshing, Capcom. Thank you. I’ll upload the full report in a while.”

“You can rest if you want to.”

“No, I’m okay. I’ll deliver in an hour.”

“Alright. I’ll send something too. Call me for any issues,” he ends. Seungyoun hangs up and revisits his unfinished document. Because of what ensued, changes have to be made.

He looks at the date. 16th of September. It’s only the third week.

  
  
  
  


**DAY 028 – SEPTEMBER 23, 2019**

Seungyoun is perusing the radar results when a shadow blocks the light, preventing him from reading further. He turns and sees Kim Wooseok, a friend and an astronomer he worked with back in Research. While once again assigned to the same project, they haven’t had an opportunity to catch up because of Quantum Leap’s workload. On duties, all they can usually manage are small nods of acknowledgement.

“Join me for dinner?,” Wooseok asks, his gaze borderline intimidating. 

Seungyoun knows it’s just how he looks, however. Wooseok is far from the unapproachable aura he exudes. “You eat dinner at 2 am?,” he jokes, ending his question with a wink. 

The other rolls his eyes. “Semantics. Join me for a meal, breakfast, whatever.”

They end up at a nearby chicken place. The restaurant is famous, and dining in often means a 15 to 20-minute wait. They opt for their favorites: boneless cuts for him and dakbal for Wooseok. _This is worth those minutes,_ Seungyoun thinks as he devours another piece. They’re at their most relaxed, making dialogue flow smoothly.

“So, how is Capcom doing?,” Wooseok questions, chewing a piece of chicken feet.

Seungyoun shrugs his shoulders. “Good. Coping, I suppose. How about the FDO?”

“Barely breathing.”

Wooseok is the program’s Flight Dynamics Officer. The FDO determines where the spacecraft is, where it’s going and where it has been. With the trajectory defined, the FDO also generates, executes and confirms all translational maneuvers to meet specific payload requirements. Once these maneuvers are defined, the FDO determines landing opportunities. It’s a hefty position, and Wooseok has his own console and display to help him keep track of everything.

“You’ve always been brilliant though,” encourages Seungyoun, proud of his longtime friend. “I’m not surprised that you’re doing great.”

“It’s also thanks to a well-oiled MCC. Our dynamics fit each other,” the other deflects.

“When I think about it, I feel lucky to have such a team for my first spaceflight mission. People know what they’re doing, and they’re not being an ass about it.”

Wooseok laughs, the sound more of a giggle in its softness. “Well, offices are hierarchical, especially in the MCC where experts and specialists are gathered. With that many brains inside a single room, egos are bound to clash. But yeah, as you said, we’re lucky to not have somebody who shoves their credentials every five minutes.”

“I have a question,” Seungyoun interrupts, whispering. “Have you worked with any of the astronauts onboard?”

“Ooh, is Capcom seeking gossip?”

“No!,” he denies, vehemently shaking his head. “But I have to know a bit about them at least so I can converse better.”

“Hm, I’ve worked with Han Seungwoo once,” Wooseok shares, wiping the remaining dakbal sauce on his fingers with a napkin. “I’m close to Kim Yohan and by association, friends with his boyfriend Lee Hangyul.”

Seungyoun’s mouth goes agape. “B-boyfriend?”

“Yes. They’re open about their relationship, and most of our colleagues are aware. Any problem?”

“None, of course. I’m just shocked. And in awe. I mean, how many couples can say they had a date in space?”

“Point taken,” Wooseok agrees, nodding. “Those two are social butterflies. You won’t need to do much to coax them out of their shells.”

“And the Commander?”

“Oh, don’t worry about him too. Seungwoo is kind, probably one of the nicest people I met. It takes a while for him to warm up, but you have a way with words. I’m sure you’ll manage.”

An alarm shrills. It’s 03:30:15, thirty minutes before their shift begins. They wrap up their conversation, wishing each other well and promising to eat out more often. It’s probably all in Seungyoun’s head, but on their way back, his footsteps are at their lightest ever since the project has started. Sometimes, the cure to exhaustion is a friend.

  
  
  
  


**DAY 035 – SEPTEMBER 30, 2019**

“Good day, Commander.”

“Good day, Capcom.”

“I’m passing the line to Kang Minhee, our Flight Surgeon. He will direct you through the ultrasound process. You’ll be having a two-way private video setup,” explains Seungyoun, nodding at said person.

“Copy,” Seungwoo says.

“Please note that there will be a one-second delay. Be patient and wait for the Surgeon’s instructions.” He presses a button on the receiver, transferring the call to the Flight Surgeon’s private office.

Because Quantum Leap is foremost a medical study, clinical procedures are set to be performed onboard—the same procedures that were done 1 year prior and 6 months prior to the launch and will be repeated 6 months and 1 year after the program, respectively. These include ultrasounds, blood draws and collecting of bodily excretions. While the astronauts are trained to operate the necessary equipment by themselves, supervision by the Flight Surgeon is required.

The echocardiogram will last forty minutes for each astronaut. He returns to his floor seat, another round of commands for deployment waiting to be tackled. In the meantime, Seungyoun enjoys a mug of coffee—black, just how he likes it. 

  
  
  
  


**DAY 042 – OCTOBER 07, 2019**

More than a month into Quantum Leap, Seungyoun finds himself in less rushed circumstances. The spacecraft has stabilized, two extravehicular activities have culminated, and the last spacewalk is slated in December. There isn’t much to do aside from the usual logistics and transcribing.

He stares at the 450-485 nm ~ 620-680 THz walls surrounding the room. Now, he knows his way around this place, where to sleep better, where the cleaner restroom is, where to get the best donuts and soft-serve ice cream. The days have fallen into a routine, and the constantly varying data keeps things interesting.

The phone in his office rings. He nods to Dongwook who gives him permission, and he hurries to answer before it’s cut off. “Capcom. Please introduce yourself,” he greets, a little short of breath from rushing.

There is no response. Seungyoun moves to hang up, thinking he was mistakenly dialled, when the voice speaks. “This is Han Seungwoo.”

“Commander?,” he glances at the door, making sure it’s shut before continuing. “Do we have an issue?”

“Not really.”

“Oh. Do you have something to say?”

“Nothing.”

Seungyoun relaxes into his computer chair, confused with how the exchange is unfolding. “Uh. Okay then.”

“No, I’m sorry,” Seungwoo mumbles. “I just want to talk.”

“That’s fine,” he pauses. “What do you want to talk about?”

“...I don’t know.”

 _Ah._ Is this an instance of what Dongwook had told him back then, that the astronauts will need to unload at some point? They’re people as well, prone to emotions that are magnified by being away from the people they trust.

He twists the coil cord between his fingers, thinking of things that are safe to say. “Is it okay if I speak instead?”

“Yes, it’s alright.”

“What did you do today?”

“Well, we polished the windows of the spacecraft and did other cleaning duties. I exercised and spent an hour on the treadmill. I just finished my dinner too,” Seungwoo shares.

A lightbulb switches in his brain. “What did you eat?”

“Hm, I had rehydratable ramen—Shōyu flavored.”

“What? You have something like that?” Seungyoun is genuinely shocked. He’s never heard of ramen in space before.

“It’s newly developed. It’s not as tasty as the real thing of course, but it’s palatable.”

“I… I have no words.”

“I was skeptical too until I ate it,” Seungwoo says, snickering. “Space food has come a long way. You’d be surprised. We have soups, spaghetti, goulash, fruit salad, meat and more. There’s also a machine called ISSpresso for tea and freshly brewed coffee.”

Seungyoun whistles, amazed at how technology has evolved. “That’s a game changer.”

“It’s a cool device,” Seungwoo boasts. “You can choose between a short or long black, or the hot drink option for broth and tea. The liquid is deposited into a zero-g espresso cup, allowing us to enjoy the beverage in microgravity.”

“I’m already sold on the freshly brewed coffee.”

“Right? They had soluble coffee before which is fine, but the ISSpresso is a badass.”

They carry on with their discussion which spans pizza, Thai cuisine and Seungwoo’s favorite grilled meat place. Food is always a good conversation starter; it’s relatable, hardly offensive and endlessly branching.

“Thank you, Capcom. I was out of it before this.” Seungwoo’s voice is low, sounding a little embarrassed.

“It’s okay,” Seungyoun reassures, delighted that he was able to help. “Just call me for anything, understand?”

“Copy. See you in the morning.”

The loop is disconnected. He returns to the main floor, aware of Dongwook’s probing gaze. However, the Flight Director doesn’t push.

Instead, he asks, “Is he okay?”

“Yeah. He seemed brighter towards the end.” Seungyoun isn’t actually sure, but he hopes for it to be true.

  
  
  
  


**DAY 049 – OCTOBER 14, 2019**

“The last object I studied was an asteroid. The research team spent months measuring its color, brightness, rotation rate and any hazards that might be around it, such as dust and natural satellites,” Seungyoun begins, sharing the nature of his former work.

“And what did you find?,” inquires Seungwoo.

“It’s spheroidal in shape, carbonaceous and composed of phyllosilicates which demonstrates a potential to be mined for asteroidal water.”

“Oh, it’s a rare F-type then?”

“Yes,” he confirms, remembering the details he spent months poring over. “What’s more interesting is that it rotates faster over time. Due to the uneven emission of thermal radiation from its surface as it circles in sunlight, the rotation period decreases by about one second every 100 years.”

The room’s lights are off. The only sources of illumination are display monitors and rheostat switches. He’s once again inside his separate office, handset in ear, attention undeviating. Seungwoo phoned in ten minutes ago and started the call with a _Can we talk again?_ He found his shyness somewhat endearing.

“How’s it being on a spaceflight mission for the first time?”

“You sound like our Flight Director,” Seungyoun jokes light-heartedly. “It’s a high-octane environment, but I’m adjusting well. I’m learning a lot.”

“It’s a special skill to listen to multiple dialogues at the same time, no?”

“I get stumped sometimes. Although I try my best not to because there’s a lot at stake.”

“No, don’t pressure yourself like that.” A tongue clicks. “It’ll only compromise your work.”

Seungyoun recognizes an opening when he sees one. He’s been curious, and so he grabs the chance. “Hn, speaking from experience?”

Seungwoo chuckles. “It became apparent because of the glove incident, huh. But yes, admittedly, I overthink and bring unnecessary burden to myself.”

“Can we help it though? The nature of the job itself discourages mistakes. I love what I do, but it can be mentally draining,” Seungyoun says, unusually dwelling on his emotions.

The MCC is tedious work. It’s difficult, even when everything is going well. It demands willingness to look beyond the confines of the job description, to see the big picture, to pursue knowledge until a system, a problem, or a requirement is understood thoroughly. It calls for the ability to make the right decision in a critical situation, with no time and little details. Still, he won’t trade it for anything.

The topic makes them both pause, immersed in the realities they had to face in order to attain their current places. Stars are Seungyoun’s specialty. Planets, non-Earthly phenomena, _the out of reach._

“Do you see yourself in space?,” Seungwoo suddenly asks.

 _It’s a lifelong wish,_ he wants to say, _but it’s been nine years and nothing is happening._ “I’m not going to lie. I hope so. Whether it actually pans out, who knows?”

At 00:16:31, the astronauts and mission control team are expected to rest. But Seungyoun is wide awake, his words flowing to hundreds of miles away, reaching stars, meteoroids and galaxies he longs to experience one day.

  
  



	4. Chapter 4

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> "But aren’t humans and satellites similar?”
> 
> “In which way?”
> 
> “Our lives revolve around our surroundings—the people we cherish, our work, our interests, the way we feel. We record everything there is to know about these matters. We’re constantly observing and navigating, sensitive to any form of change. And just like satellites, every orbit is different. The time frames are discrete, and the end goals vary. Some orbits deviate, but some overlap, and out of billions, we meet who we meet.”

**DAY 063 – OCTOBER 28, 2019**

“It’s my second time in space. I think no matter how many times I come here, it will always take my breath away.”

Enclosed inside the glass walls of his office, Seungyoun listens as Seungwoo recounts his days onboard the ISS. There is an unmistakable wonder in his voice, a sense of awe that isn’t impeded by distance nor telephone cords. 

“How far ago was the first?,” Seungyoun asks.

“Five years.” To be an astronaut is to shoot for the moon. Most wait forever for an opportunity, and then there’s Seungwoo who went on two space explorations in just five years.

 _Some are truly favored_. “And how does it feel to be up there?”

“Truthfully, it’s baffling. I’m filled with joy, of course, but I’m also more in touch with solitude. I’m insignificant one minute and larger than life the next. The emotions are complex, but at the end of the day, I’m grateful. I was given what I wanted.”

“Is this your childhood dream?”

“Not really. I initially wanted to be an athlete.”

“Eh?,” Seungyoun exclaims, shocked. “I played soccer and planned to do it professionally.”

“This is peculiar. It’s exactly the same for me.”

Seungyoun shakes his head in disbelief. “Commander, you’re scaring me,” he jokes.

“Heh,” Seungwoo chides. “What altered your plans? In my case, an injury did it.”

“A documentary. I stumbled on it while looking for a sports channel. My mathematics and science grades were decent so I gave it a try.”

“Just like that?”

“Yeah. Just like that.”

“I miss the impulsiveness I had when I was young. Nowadays, I don’t know how to act without overanalyzing.”

“That’s true,” Seungyoun agrees, imagining the pools he swam in and the trees he climbed as a kid. “We’re forced to grow up and be practical. To tame whims because adults should be collected. But well, you’re there with the stars and planets. You must have lived right.”

“There’s hardwork in whatever we do,” Seungwoo pauses, as if arranging his thoughts. “And then there’s chance, which I’m certain is part of this. I won’t discredit that.”

“You’ve been to space twice. Stop using up all the luck in the world.”

A tinkling laugh reverberates through the line. “I have a feeling that you’re next, Capcom.”

“I’m not sure,” Seungyoun deflects. Having worked in the same department for an extended period of time made him content with patterns. Doing the same things over and over numbed the part of him that dreamed. There was a goal that he wanted to reach, and he toiled for it until he was desperate. Did he achieve it? _A bit._ It’s what he’s been afforded—a quick taste, a temporary peek. He’s always almost there. Quite close, but not enough.

And that dulls even the most optimistic. 

“Hey, have more confidence,” Seungwoo says sternly. “It will come for you.”

Seungyoun doesn’t answer. Instead, he shifts the topic. It’s supposed to be the end of his work day, but Seungwoo dialled in just after 23:00:00, initiating a conversation. A pile of folders lay on his desk, ready to be submitted. He leaves them alone.

For now, he lets himself be distracted. Sometimes, the cure to weariness is someone who understands.

  
  
  
  


**DAY 077 – NOVEMBER 11, 2019**

The front wall of the Mission Control Center is dominated by giant view screens. The center display is ten feet high by twenty across, and on either side, canted inward, are two pairs of ten-feet-squares. These are operated by Kim Wooseok, the FDO, and Song Hyeongjun, the Retrofire Officer (Retro). Because they are in the middle of a critical mission phase, the screen is split into two ten-by-ten halves.

The spacecraft is a complex machine, and it requires a constant configuration for on-orbit activities. To figure out its location and guide it to its destination, the MCC has to combine radar, telemetry, and its own estimation data about the spacecraft’s acceleration, position and velocity, and then employ sophisticated vehicle, atmosphere and gravity models to predict where the shuttle is heading and what actions need to be taken. These include orbital mechanics and rendezvous computations, trajectory and abort calculations, and deorbit maneuvers and flight predictions. Everything should be modeled as accurate as possible to avoid a mistake that could destroy the vehicle and the crew.

Seungyoun is currently deciphering masses of data, selecting critical information buried in the morass of words and numbers. He is becoming good at this—at recognizing which to pick among figures that are constantly moving. There is no time to rest whatever one’s capacity may be. Still, he is lucky to have a role that isn’t as mathematically taxing.

“Retro, your status please,” Dongwook says, pushing up the sleeves of his shirt.

Hyeongjun refers to his notes. “The present trajectory entry angle is minus 6.56 degrees and the nominal entry angle is minus 6.51 degrees. We expect entry velocity to be 36,194 feet per second or 11,032 meters per second. These conditions are excellent.”

“Copy. FDO, how about you?”

“No problems with tracking. Cryogenics are well-balanced, and the antennae and power status are in good shape,” Wooseok responds.

“Third row.”

“The passive thermal control and reaction control systems are operating well. The environmental control system is also steady,” Cha Junho, their Electrical, Environmental and Communications officer (EECOM), reports.

Dongwook nods. “Since everything is stable, we can officially end today’s load. See you tomorrow and good night.”

Seungyoun pinches the bridge of his nose, relieving the migraine that’s about to break his skull. His body is tense from sitting all day, but he refuses to sleep and waits in his desk instead.

However, an hour passes and the phone remains silent.

  
  
  
  


**DAY 091 – NOVEMBER 25, 2019**

“How were you as a child?,” Seungyoun asks as he stares at the succulent on his desk. It’s a mystery to him how it’s still alive despite being neglected on most days.

“Oh, I was reserved. Had a small circle of friends. Always alone,” Seungwoo answers. As usual, his gentle voice almost lulls Seungyoun to sleep. And he should be—it’s 01:20:11, way past his work shift. Instead, he’s inside his office, the phone’s handset almost glued to his right ear. These close-to-midnight calls are almost a daily occurrence by now, and he isn’t ashamed to admit that he enjoys them.

It’s so easy to converse with Seungwoo. Maybe it’s because they’ve never met before and therefore, they have nothing to base their comparisons or prejudices on. All that exists is who they are at the moment, two space workers running towards their goals. To be a blank canvass is an oddly comforting thought.

“You’re different from me then. I was a chatterbox and would often be told off by my teachers,” he shares, recalling the scoldings he received. “I had many friends too. My mom called me a social butterfly.”

“Hn, that doesn’t surprise me. You speak well.”

“Eh. I’m just shameless. But yeah, your shyness doesn’t surprise me too.”

“People often tell me that I’m cold,” Seungwoo admits. A whirring sound comes through the line—probably the coffee machine. It buzzes for a minute before ending with a beep. “While I agree that I can appear that way, it’s because I find it hard to approach people. Speaking is not my forte, and I’d rather listen than talk.”

“You talk a lot on the phone though.”

“Yeah. I think I’m much better when I’m not in front of someone. It helps that you’re talkative. I’m at ease, and that makes me share things. Are you sure you’re not sleepy?”

“I’m not.” Seungyoun transfers the phone to his left ear and grips it between his shoulder and the side of his face, freeing his hands in the process. He takes a document and signs it with a pen. “Where did you grow up anyway?”

“Busan. We have large ports, and we’re rich in seafood. Our milmyeon is the best,” Seungwoo says in his best accent. He sounds rougher with the low tone at the end of his sentences.

“You’re nailing that satoori,” Seungyoun remarks, chuckling.

“I’m good, right?”

“The best I heard so far.”

“Have you been to Busan?”

A memory lingers in Seungyoun’s mind. Like a videotape, it unrolls without pausing—warm air, crystal beaches, never-ending days. There were kites and playmates and his ankles buried in the sand. Busan was kind and mellow, and it was something he never found again amid the bustling city life.

“I remember spending one summer break there and eating as much ssiat hotteok as I could, but I never had a chance to go back,” he says. If he closes his eyes enough, he can still picture the rolling waves.

“Why not?”

“We transferred. We moved to Brazil and Manila before finally settling back in Korea.”

“And you were a child then?”

“Yeah. They happened in my younger and early teenage years. When we returned, I was already preparing for college.”

“I can’t imagine what a new country is like for someone so young.”

“I cried a lot. I didn’t show it to my mom, of course, but I was scared as hell. Basically, I had to start my life all over again. But that’s how I became social. If I didn’t step up, I wouldn’t have any friends.” The frequent moving made Seungyoun feel like a stunted tree. Every time he was about to spring branches, he was uprooted and brought somewhere else. Nevertheless, it wasn’t all bad. It taught him adaptability and independence.

“And that’s admirable. The farthest I’ve been to is Japan.”

“Come on, Commander. You’re in space.”

“Oh fuck. I can’t believe I forgot,” Seungwoo interjects, full-on giggling.

Seungyoun, however, stifles his laughter. He doesn’t want to risk waking his colleagues up. “You’re having coffee in microgravity and you forgot.”

“Hey! Don’t judge me. My brain is muddled from your commands.”

“Mm-hmm. I’ll humor that. How was Japan for you?”

“Well, I can’t not mention the food which is some of the most phenomenal I’ve had. They were always fresh and well-prepared. I only stayed for two months though, and I wish I sampled more delicacies. In terms of places, I like the countryside better. My favorites are the prefectures of Gifu and Okayama. Tokyo was undeniably pretty, but it was also distant. I felt disconnected the entire time.”

“Tokyo is the place if you want to feel alone.”

“Exactly. I’m used to being on my own so I couldn’t understand why I was lonely. Ironically, I was surrounded by more people there than in any other site I visited.”

Seungyoun reclines on his seat, carefully picking his next words. “Big cities tend to be like that. Seoul, for instance, is supershiny and ultramodern. It’s populated, and everything is within reach. But for a place that has so much, it can be empty and hollow.”

“That’s true,” Seungwoo sighs. “The glitz is blinding. Before you know it, you’re tumbling down the hole.”

“I think it’s important to foster a relationship with things that keep you grounded—friends, a passion, or even hobbies. Just something to anchor you so you don’t get lost in the void.”

“Yes. It’s you.”

Seungyoun knows that he heard correctly, but he asks just in case. “Pardon?”

“These days, it’s you that’s holding me together.”

  
  
  
  


**DAY 105 – DECEMBER 09, 2019**

“Good day, Capcom. We’re about to conduct the final spacewalk,” Seungwoo announces, his voice garbled by weak signal.

Seungyoun turns the radio dial until the line becomes clear. “Alright. You’re up to replace antenna 6, install gap spanners, and sample microorganisms,” he says, scanning the board. “The coordinates have been sent. Please dial in after you’ve stabilized your areas.”

He raises his head to check on the other flight controllers. Unsurprisingly, they’re all focused on either a paper or a screen. Even the Flight Director is unusually tense, the crease between his brows making an appearance. The third and last spacewalk is estimated to last around nine hours. This is the longest duration that the astronauts will be outdoors, and it is imperative to prepare all necessary data to sustain a safe excursion. 

Seungyoun returns his gaze to the computer monitor. The cursor blinks steadily as it waits for his next input. In the document, the tasks are divided into three major undertakings; their purposes and processes explained with each bullet point.

  1. Installation of gap spanners on the service module – This will facilitate the movement of crew members on future spacewalks, ensuring their success and security;
  2. Sampling of possible microorganisms from solar panel 4, a radiator panel on the work compartment and in the proximity of purging valves – In light of upcoming long-duration missions, it’s important to identify the types of microorganisms that can accumulate in the unique, closed environments associated with spaceflight, what their impact is on human health and spacecraft infrastructure. This is crucial for astronauts, as they have altered immunity and do not have access to the sophisticated medical interventions available on Earth; and
  3. Replacing antenna 6 – a leftover activity from the second spacewalk.



_Almost there._ He inserts additional details in between sentences, editing them until they‘re unified and concise. When he’s satisfied with the output, he deploys it to the database for everyone to access. With this, the initial phase of his job is over. All he has to do until the end of today’s shift are to be on standby for any calls from the space crew and relay further commands, if needed.

In the meantime, he enjoys a mug of freshly brewed coffee, as he always does whenever he’s free. He blows on it before drinking, smoke misting the tip of his nose. The first sip wakes him up—the bitter taste spreading in his mouth and jolting his senses. It scalds his tongue, but he doesn’t mind. This is how he takes it: black, strong and piping hot.

Noise overwhelms the floor. Buttons are pressed incessantly, and beeps fill the silence now and then. Every flight commander is loading their terminals with position-specific instructions, their voices crowding the space. For some reason, these make him sentimental. He remembers his first day on the MCC; cold feet and being unsure of the responsibility that was handed over to him. 

There is an extensive difference between _research_ where conclusions take months or years to form and an _active exploration_ which requires results by the millisecond. As expected, crossing that gap was the most difficult part. Even so, Seungyoun adjusted to his new surroundings. He restructured his working habits, and bit by bit, he was able to keep up with the fast pace. He barely flinches from pressure these days, a side effect when every minute is a constant mind strain.

And now, just like that, they’re on their final extravehicular activity. The buttons of his mouse are worn out, and the labels of his keyboard have faded from everyday tapping. His once thick notepad is down to its last thirty-three pages. Time has passed in a flash. Quantum Leap will be over in a month, and he can already feel the emptiness it will leave.

“Capcom, the feed is transmitting. They’ll probably contact you soon,” Dongwook remarks, surveying one of the front screens.

“My lines are open,” he answers, returning the empty mug back on his desk. A ping goes through line 1 after an hour, and Seungyoun lets out a sigh of relief.

  
  
  
  


**DAY 120 – DECEMBER 24, 2019**

“Capcom, this is Flight Engineer 1, Lee Hangyul.”

“Copy, FE1. What can I do for you?,” Seungyoun replies, tapping on the keyboard keys rapidly.

“I’d like to ask for additional two hours of downtime.” Hangyul says, his voice coming off a bit too loud in the handset, causing Seungyoun to wince.

“Purpose?”

“It’s Commander Han’s birthday. We’ll have a late night since we didn’t get to spend it earlier.”

“It is? Let me check with the Flight Director,” Seungyoun answers, stopping in the middle of transcribing. He hasn’t heard about this. Which, he admits, is a weird reaction because he and Seungwoo aren’t friends in the first place. He knows that the other isn’t aware of his birthday as well, and that’s just how things are. After all, these things are just dates when you’re busy and old.

Hence, why is he so bothered?

He swivels his computer chair to the left. Dongwook is staring at his mobile phone, attempting to compose a message before erasing it fully. Seungyoun is reluctant to disturb him, but the astronauts are waiting for an answer. In the end, he taps his arm gently.

“Sir, the space station crew wants two hours of extra rest,” he whispers, trying not to disturb the atmosphere. “It’s Commander Han Seungwoo’s birthday.”

Dongwook rubs his face, waking himself from the stupor he was in. “Sure, tell them it’s fine. Send in a greeting from me as well.”

“Copy. It’s FE1 on the line. I’ll relay it to him.” Seungyoun returns to the call and confirms the approval of Hangyul's request. All throughout, he feels Dongwook’s gaze on him.

“What are you doing after this?,” Dongwook asks after Seungyoun disconnects. “We’re done in fifteen minutes.”

Seungyoun is confused. “Sleep?,” he questions, scratching his chin in reflex.

“It’s Christmas soon, Capcom.”

Oh. _Oh._ Realization slowly dawns on Seungyoun, too caught up in work to even notice the occasion. That explains why everyone is in a cheery mood today.

He likes Christmas. He likes it more than his birthday, if he’s being honest. Everyone is jovial, gifts are abundant and the attention isn’t on him. This is his first holiday away from home and most likely, it won’t be the last. He doesn’t regret anything though—he’s never been this close to his dreams.

“Hm,” he pauses, racking his brain for a response. “I’m going to message my Mom and do a video call if she’s free. She might’ve gone to my Aunt’s house since she’s alone this year.”

Dongwook seems pleased by his answer. “It’s the same for me. My youngest daughter wanted me to be home, but I had to let her down for the second time,” he shares, shaking his head. His eyes are particularly downcast at the last sentence.

“You were here last year?”

“Yes,” Dongwook sighs, letting his body fall back against the backrest of his chair. “I had a project. At midnight, instead of welcoming Christmas, we were busy tweaking radars and velocities.”

With no children of his own, Seungyoun has no idea about how to talk about these things without being insensitive. However, Dongwook looks genuinely frustrated and he wants to comfort him at least.

“You can ask for a prolonged work leave after Quantum Leap,” he suggests, softening his tone. “I think the superiors will be lenient because you’ve rewarded them with successful programs.”

“That’s the plan. I hope I earned it,” Dongwook answers, a bitter smile gracing his lips. “Anyway, go eat. We have food—a humble spread of sorts.” 

“When I’m done with this,” he says, pointing a thumb to the monitor. Dongwook pats him on the shoulder before standing up, leaving him alone in the fourth row.

After completing the rest of the document, he moves to check the pantry. He is welcomed by a modest but filling feast of bulgogi, kimchi and japchae. His colleagues are already present, chuckling heartily as they clear their plates. 

“You’re late,” Wooseok says, turning away from a conversation to face Seungyoun fully. 

Seungyoun shrugs. “I had to finish something.”

“Still a workaholic,” Wooseok scolds, his hands placed on his hips. “But you’re here now at least. Happy holidays, Seungyoun.”

“Yeah. My stomach is growling in protest,” Seungyoun jokes. “Happy holidays, Wooseok.” The other offers him a seat with their group, but he declines, preferring to enjoy his food in silence.

He chooses a spot near the window, plate in hand and his eyes on the illuminated streets. The city is adorned with pretty lights, making it sparkle like constellations. Jingle Bells starts playing in the background, and he turns around to see a few of their flight controllers merrily dancing. Everyone cheers them on with bellows and whistles. 

Something vibrates in his pocket, startling him. He takes out his phone and glances at its screen, the name automatically making him smile.

_Mom._

“Hello to the most beautiful being on Earth,” he greets, already happy from just hearing her voice. “Merry Christmas.”

Outside, the snow is falling. With every drop in temperature is the melting of Seungyoun’s heart.

  
  
  
  


**DAY 121 – DECEMBER 25, 2019**

At 03:35:48, a loud ring jerks Seungyoun out of his slumber. He sleepily reaches for the phone and finds it after a few directionless pats.

“Hello?,” he answers, his voice a bit hoarse. He lifts his head from the desk and sees a few of his coworkers awake.

“Guess who,” a familiar voice says.

“FE1 Lee? FE2 Kim?”

“Very funny.”

Seungyoun laughs, amused at how Seungwoo is acting. “Why is the birthday boy cranky?”

“Because you didn’t greet me?” Seungwoo sounds like he’s pouting, and even with a limited idea of his face, Seungyoun can imagine how he looks. It makes him laugh again.

“Well, I didn’t know,” he manages to blurt out in between breaths.

“Didn’t Hangyul tell you?”

“He did. So I passed my wishes to him.”

“Capcom.”

“I’m kidding. Happy birthday, Commander,” Seungyoun greets, glancing at the clock. Some rheostat switches are on, and he hears the low hum of Christmas tunes. “Belated, because it’s already morning.”

“Thank you. I couldn’t call earlier because of Yohan and Hangyul.”

“Don’t sweat it. How old are you today, if you don’t mind?”

“Thirty-five.”

His mouth drops open. “I’m two years younger than you! You’re a _hyung_.”

“Not another _dongsaeng_ ,” Seungwoo laments. “Dongwook-hyung is the only older brother I have.”

“Sorry, hyung. There’s nothing we can do about it,” Seungyoun jokes. The banter puts a smile on his face. It’s been one complication after another, but the holiday and these conversations are making him feel better.

“I’m cutting this call.”

“So grumpy, hyung.”

“Capcom.”

“Okay, okay. How did your celebration go, Commander?”

“It was fun,” Seungwoo says, his excitement palpable. “They prepared two meals: pork with potatoes and lamb with vegetables. For dessert, we heated a chocolate pudding cake in the food warmer. Then they had me choose songs, and they sang for me all night.”

“They’re good friends.”

“Yeah. I think you’ll like them. They’re both comedians, and they keep me entertained. Maybe we should eat out when the exploration ends? Or have lunch together at the office?”

He and Seungwoo have never talked about what happens after Quantum Leap concludes. It would be nice to establish something out of, well, whatever this is they have because he sincerely believes that they can be good friends. But everytime Seungyoun attempts to breach the topic, his nerves go haywire and he throws in a joke instead.

“Okay. Just let me know when,” he responds, trying to push the happiness out of his voice. “Is this your first birthday onboard?”

“Yes.”

“It must be a new experience then.”

“It does bring in a fresh perspective,” Seungwoo remarks, turning serious. “Actually, I realized something.”

“What is it?”

“We were studying Landsat 8 when it dawned on me. But aren’t humans and satellites similar?”

Seungyoun straightens in his seat, intrigued by the statement. “In which way?”

“Our lives revolve around our surroundings—the people we cherish, our work, our interests, the way we feel. We record everything there is to know about these matters. We’re constantly observing and navigating, sensitive to any form of change. And just like satellites, every orbit is different. The time frames are discrete, and the end goals vary. Some orbits deviate, but some overlap, and out of billions, we meet who we meet.”

“That’s… amazing,” Seungyoun says, speechless at the accuracy.

“Eh, it’s just a thought.”

“No, it makes sense. It’s not only people. The heart is a lonely satellite too—drifting and wandering until it finds something that consumes it.”

  
  
  
  


**DAY 133 – JANUARY 06, 2020**

“Capcom. How are we today?,” Dongwook asks, his attire more formal than the usual.

Seungyoun loosens his tie. He is wearing his best suit, and yet it’s not helping with his nervousness. “A bit anxious,” he admits.

“I am too. But it’s time to bring them back. We’ll do it right, okay?”

Today is the conclusion of Quantum Leap—the longest space exploration of the Mission Control Center so far. It was a hurricane of information, n-digit numbers and sleepless nights, and Seungyoun feels as if he aged twenty years from the stress it caused. Still, it’s gratifying to do something he’s never done before. The mission fed a part of him who yearned for a change. Somewhere along the way, within the cold walls and bureaucracy of the offices he worked in, he lost the curiosity that made him seek novelties.

He rechecks the instruction list for any missed errors. This is the last round of commands he’ll deploy, and he can already feel the beginnings of loneliness at the edges of his heart. But routines come and go, and after this, he will find another way to spend his days. Life is a cycle of phases and transitions. Seungyoun is accustomed to it.

This is the current status of Quantum-X1: two and a half hours into undocking and performing a firing of its control thrusters. The entire MCC is focused on the center screen, monitoring the space station and ensuring that the vehicle is in stable flight as it backs away.

The landing plan begins with the _undocking_. This typically takes place during the final orbit of a particular day, around 3 hours ahead of the scheduled touchdown on Earth. Prior to their departure from the International Space Station, the space station crew conducts a testing of the motion control system of the spacecraft. The crew then boards the vehicle and closes the hatches connecting it to the ISS, followed by leak checks in the docking port. After these tasks are done, all astronauts, dressed in their spacesuits, take seats inside the Descent Module. This is a significant step—the DM is the only section of the spacecraft that returns to Earth at the end of a mission.

“First row, recite your data,” Dongwook orders, his voice booming throughout the room.

Kim Wooseok answers for his team. “Altitude 422.0, Latitude -49.05, Longitude 315.45, Velocity 7.352, G-load 0.00. All systems clear for takeoff, Sir.”

“Noted. Capcom, contact Quantum-X1 and make sure they’re ready.”

“Yes, Sir,” Seungyoun says, picking up the earpiece and turning his microphone on. “This is Cho Seungyoun speaking, Capsule Communicator of Quantum Leap. If any member of the space station crew is listening to this, please answer me.”

“We’re here. This is Han Seungwoo, Commander of spacecraft Quantum-X1.”

Seungyoun clears his throat. “We’re at the first stage of the braking maneuver. Is everyone strapped in?”

“Yes.”

“And the systems?”

“All enabled.”

“Alright. Hold tight. We’re going into descent.”

“Got it, Capcom.”

“I’ll contact you after a few minutes. Godspeed, Astronauts.” Seungyoun raises a thumbs up, a signal for the floor to proceed. His eyes remain peeled on the screen, observing every second of the process.

“Everyone, let’s get these men from space. Command ‘Descent’,” Dongwook announces.

 _Descent_ activates the sequence for the separation of the spacecraft's modules as soon as the braking maneuver is completed. As shown on the MCC’s front display monitor, the external cable lines connecting the three main sections of the Quantum-X1 and the thermal protection layers on the Descent Module are shed. When the spacecraft is in the correct attitude, the Habitation Module and the Instrument Module disjoint from the vehicle. The DM, which contains the crew, heads for landing, while the other two compartments burn in the atmosphere.

“Sections separation is almost done. Altitude 139.9, Latitude +25.40, Longitude 36.11, Velocity 7.569 and G-load 0.00.”

“Copy. Fifth row, disclose the flight status to media,” Dongwook says.

Son Dongpyo, their Public Affairs Officer, rises from his seat. He turns on the terminal which directly connects to various radio and television channels. “Good day. We are pleased to share that Quantum-X1 has entered the Earth's atmosphere under an angle of 1.35 degrees toward the local horizon, at an altitude of around 100 kilometers above the ground. The exact measurements as of the moment are 099.5 for Altitude, Latitude of +34.06, Longitude of 45.26, 7.618 for Velocity and a G-load of 0.00. In twenty minutes, the spacecraft is anticipated to land.”

Seungyoun exhales, relief weighing his body. The spacecraft, or whatever is left of it, has traversed safely from outer space to Earth. But he can’t dial in yet—the air friction forms a bubble of plasma around the vehicle which makes any kind of communication largely impossible for around five minutes. In the meantime, he has to wait.

“First row, enumerate your latest numbers.”

“Altitude 32.9, Latitude +47.10, Longitude 68.29, Velocity 2.008, G-load 4.09. We are twenty minutes to the expected time of landing. The parachute systems will begin to operate when Quantum-X1 is 10-9 kilometers above ground level.”

Dongwook visibly relaxes. “How about the lines?”

“Communication will return shortly as the spacecraft has already exited the plasma.”

Seungyoun tweaks the radio frequency until it’s at the strongest signal of 145.80 MHz. Static welcomes him at first, and then a rustling sound comes after.

“Capcom speaking. Am I connected?,” he asks. Dongwook looks at him, on standby for a response as well.

“Yes. This is Flight Engineer 2 Kim Yohan.”

Seungyoun nods at Dongwook, and the other goes back to filtering bulks of data. “How is everyone doing?”

“We’re a little disoriented from the gravity load but it’s manageable,” Yohan replies.

“You’re currently at an altitude of 22.5. The parachute will open when you reach 10-9. Just in case, a backup parachute is available to deploy from a separate compartment if needed.”

“Copy that.”

“My next call will be after your touchdown. A crew is on the site to assist you—don’t hesitate to ask for whatever you need.”

“Got it. Thanks, Capcom.”

Seungyoun drops the call. As the spacecraft is almost back on the ground, the MCC has to initiate a series of pre-landing operations. First, the bottom heat shield of the capsule is jettisoned, revealing six solid-propellant motors, a blinking light beacon and a gamma-ray altimeter. An automated control system equalizes the pressure inside the Descent Module with the Earth’s atmospheric pressure.

Next, the valves of the control thrusters are opened in order to drop pressurization gas and drain remaining hydrogen peroxide propellants. A transmitter sends signals via an antenna in the parachute lines, letting the MCC track the vehicle’s movements. The shock absorbing system in the astronaut chairs is also activated. After this, everything is set up for the landing of the spacecraft.

“Parachute release command is underway. Altitude 9.7, Latitude +47.19, Longitude 69.34, Velocity 0.0218, G-load 1.19. Estimated time left: ten minutes.”

All flight controllers are on the edge of their seats. Seungyoun watches as the drop occurs, his hand stiffly gripping a pen throughout. There isn’t anything left for them to do. From here onward is the responsibility of the ground crew.

“Altitude 2.5, Latitude +47.19, Longitude 69.34, Velocity 0.0134, G-load 1.00. They’ll be here any second now.”

Static resounds through his earpiece once again. Seungyoun puts the phone on speaker for everyone to hear. “Hello?”

“Hello,” a voice says, the feed distorting before becoming intelligible. “This is Commander Han. We have safely landed.”

Just then, the entire floor applauds. 

“Welcome back, Commander. Please go to the infirmary and take a short rest,” Seungyoun replies over the booming cheers of his colleagues. He is hugged by someone and he tries to return the gesture, but the person moves on quickly to the one beside his seat.

“I’ll see you later?,” Seungwoo asks, uncaring whether anyone overhears.

“Okay. I’m looking forward to it.”

The call is ended. Seungyoun watches on as everyone celebrates, amazed at the camaraderie that was built over a short time. They’ve been together for only five months, but this group has etched a permanent place in his heart.

Dongwook stands in front, the multiple screens serving as his backdrop. “With the return of Quantum-X1, Quantum Leap is drawn to a close,” he declares, bowing deeply. “Thank you for working hard. We did it.”

Five months have passed, and the astronauts are home. 

Five months have passed, and Quantum Leap is finally finished.

—

Forty minutes after touchdown, the astronauts are ushered into the office building and introduced to every flight controller who participated in the mission. Seungyoun is finalizing documents inside his office, and he doesn’t notice their presence until someone knocks on his door.

“Come in,” he says, not lifting his gaze from the file he’s reading.

“As you can witness, our Capsule Communicator is a workaholic,” Dongwook explains as he enters the room. “But he’s friendly, and I think you’ll get along well.”

Three people follow after him, and Seungyoun immediately moves to greet the visitors. “Ah, I’m sorry. I was finishing reports,” he apologizes. The tall one stands out, and he tries to maintain his cool knowing that it is Seungwoo.

“Don’t worry. Anyway, these are our astronauts who I’m certain you recognize. You talked to them a few times,” Dongwook continues. “These are Lee Hangyul, Kim Yohan and Han Seungwoo.”

A blonde man bows first. He is the burliest of the three, his shirt useless in concealing his build. “Capcom, I’m Lee Hangyul, Flight Engineer 1,” he says, his voice as loud as it had been through the phone.

“It's good to see you, Hangyul. I’m Cho Seungyoun, your contact to Earth.”

The next person has round and kind eyes reminiscent of a rabbit. “I’m Kim Yohan, Flight Engineer 2.”

“Yohan, it’s nice to meet you.”

Seungwoo steps out last. He is comely and intimidating, and his white skin is even paler under the fluorescent light. He extends a hand, a gentle smile curling his lips. “Hello, Capcom. I’m Han Seungwoo, or Commander.”

Seungyoun meets the gesture with a shake. He thinks the time has stopped then, and a simple _Hello, Seungwoo_ is all he manages to say. Several thoughts are running in his head, and he tries to catch them to no avail.

Humans are similar to satellites. Every path is different, and people’s goals vary. Some paths deviate, but some overlap, and out of billions, a number of lives are allowed to collide.

  
  
  


**Notes for the Chapter:**

> i don't know if anyone is still reading this but i'm sorry this took so long ;__;
> 
> and yes, the technical stuff ends here. next chapter will be just all about ryeonseung hhh. thank you for bearing with me!


	5. Chapter 5

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> In this fast-paced world, encounters are dime a dozen. Finding something that resonates is nothing short of a miracle.

**DAY 147 – JANUARY 20, 2020**

The crystal ashtray breaks the sun rays into clusters, dotting the wood and the back of Seungyoun’s hand with tiny circles of light. He is twenty minutes early for today’s lunch appointment, and he tries to pass the time by tuning in to the news. As expected, Quantum Leap is still the talk of the town—this is the third feature he’s seen this morning. On the restaurant’s television are the last moments of the spacecraft’s descent, shrouded in thick smoke that almost renders it invisible.

Despite the fanfare surrounding the program, life remains quiet for the majority of the flight controllers. It’s a well-known fact that during explorations, it’s the astronauts who receive all the glory. Seungyoun doesn’t mind; he dislikes attention anyway. People who matter know of his contributions, and at the end of the day, that’s what matters.

The entrance bell chimes, and it ushers in Seungwoo who, like him, is ahead of schedule. His green beret is immediately noticeable, and he is cloaked in a black overcoat that brings out his complexion. He smiles as he swerves past the tables, tiptoeing to make himself as lithe as possible. Seungyoun has never seen him beyond the walls of their office. Somehow, out of it, he seems more approachable.

“Hi,” Seungwoo greets, opting to take the seat beside him. The angles of his face are more pronounced up close, and Seungyoun studies his high nose and sharp jaw.

This is their third time meeting—one immediately after the landing and the second after a press conference in the MCC. Both were brief and far from the hour-long chats they had during the mission. So maybe this justifies his current nervousness: his hands are sweaty and his brain is flashing a hundred words per second, unsure of what to say.

“Hello,” he returns. “You’re early.”

“And you’re even earlier. Have you been here long?,” Seungwoo asks, removing his coat. It leaves him in a sweater, and he pushes its sleeves up, revealing a lilac tattoo on his left forearm.

Seungyoun shakes his head. “No. I just arrived too.”

“Yohan and Hangyul are notorious for being late. We might wait for a while,” Seungwoo remarks, shrugging his shoulders.

“Eh? You should’ve come in later if you knew.”

“It’s fine. Dongwook-hyung and Wooseok will be on time for sure. Besides, I was hoping to talk to you.”

The hundred words become a thousand right then. Seungyoun knows that nothing bad is going to happen, but he’s anxious nonetheless. “What for?”

“I guess I want to formally thank you,” Seungwoo says, filling his glass with water. “You’ve done a lot for me. I feel like I haven’t expressed my gratitude well.”

“Hey. You thanked me before takeoff, and you thanked me again when you landed. That’s enough.”

“But I imposed it on you. Even though it was your scheduled rest, I insisted on dialling.”

“And I picked up every time because I was okay with it. It didn’t affect my output in any way, if that’s what you're worried about,” Seungyoun says sincerely. The calls were more than conversations—they provided a bubble he could immerse himself in after a hard day’s work.

The corners of Seungwoo’s lips lift up a little. “Well, I’m glad if that’s the case.”

“Now that’s settled, how are you faring?” The television channel has changed into something noisier, and Seungyoun can faintly hear the sounds of a ball being dribbled. The patrons become rowdy, jeering along with the game.

“I’m still adjusting to gravity. On some days, I’m dizzy and nauseous. My balance is quite back to normal, but I can’t drive yet.”

“And how long will it take before you’re stabilized?”

Seungwoo sighs deeply. “Based on the data of shorter space travels, it’s approximately thirty to forty days. However, the MCC isn’t sure since it’s the first time for astronauts to be aboard for five months. Well, the program is essentially an experiment so variables like these aren’t uncommon.”

“You’ll have to endure for a bit. In a way, it’s your body forcing you to relax,” Seungyoun placates. “How about mentally? Are you adapting well?”

“Yeah, I think I am. I contact my family and friends often these days. I used to take that for granted, you know. I could go for months of radio silence. But you kept me grounded while I was floating out in space, and I figured I should find that connection in here too.”

“Then let’s do it again.”

“Huh?,” Seungwoo asks, confused.

“Just because you’re back doesn’t mean we should stop. You can continue calling me or we can go out from time to time,” Seungyoun suggests, gauging the other’s reaction. “Only if you’re comfortable with the idea, of course.”

Seungwoo doesn’t speak at first, but then his face breaks into a smile that makes his eyes crinkle. Warm and calming, it fits the winter sun. “I’d like that.”

“Your number please,” Seungyoun says, handing his phone. Seungwoo accepts and inputs the digits before giving it back.

“There.”

“Are we friends now?” Seungyoun squeezes the phone back to his pocket, confident that he isn’t going to need it until he’s home.

“We’re aware of each other’s childhood and teenage stories and yet, we’re not friends? You wound me,” Seungwoo jokes, chuckling.

“Then if we are, I’m addressing you as hyung.”

The thousand words gradually clear until all that’s left is the ease they felt during the past five months. In this fast-paced world, encounters are dime a dozen. Finding something that resonates is nothing short of a miracle.

  
  
  
  


**DAY 178 – FEBRUARY 20, 2020**

“Were you curious?”

“What are you saying?,” Seungyoun asks, sleepily reaching for a loaf of bread. He takes out four slices and slides them inside the toaster, setting the timer to three minutes. It’s ten in the morning, and he’s still a bit disoriented. He hasn’t even opened the curtains yet.

Seungwoo, however, is full of energy. “Did you look at my file to see what I look like?,” he asks, amusement coloring his voice. 

Seungyoun doesn’t know how Seungwoo does it, but he prefers his own nocturnal sleeping patterns. He switches the electric kettle on, leaving it on _boil_ option. “Why that question all of a sudden?”

“Because I peeped into the database for yours. It was easier to talk when I had a face to match your voice with.” 

“Alright. I’m busted. Yes, I searched the astronauts’ information sheet,” Seungyoun admits. “Only for your faces though. I didn’t read anything.”

“Astronauts with an s? It wasn’t only my file?”

“You wish,” Seungyoun chides, reaching for a plate and a mug. “But it’s excusable. We had no room for introductions. By the time I was at the MCC, the three of you were already preparing for launch.”

Seungwoo hums, agreeing. “Yeah, I remember Dongwook-hyung mentioning a female Capcom and being confused when you first dialled in. Timings are odd, no? If it wasn’t for her quitting, we wouldn’t have met.”

“I think about that a lot, honestly. Life and its strange ways.”

“Going into Quantum Leap, I had no expectations of friendships. I knew most of the crew already, and if not, contact would be limited anyway. How wrong was I?”

Seungyoun snorts. “So much for limited.”

“Like you said, life and its strange ways,” Seungwoo replies, laughing with him.

Close friends were something that Seungyoun didn’t expect to gain. He has no problems with meeting people, but over time, he’s become particular with what he likes; be it in things, in food, or in a person. With age comes preferences. It’s probably the same for everyone in their thirties—they’re specific about their wants. The unfamiliar is welcome, but it’s treated with care and discretion. Thus, he’s surprised at how effortless it was to form these new bonds.

The bread pops out of the toaster slightly more burnt than he intended. He transfers them to a cutting board, spreading strawberry jam over two slices and cream cheese on the other half. The finished toasts are then cut diagonally and stacked on a plate. With that, breakfast is done. All he needs is coffee.

“What are you doing?,” Seungwoo asks. Just then, a loud scream goes through the line, most likely coming from a horror movie. The older has a penchant for the gore and thriller genre—one of the few interests they don’t share. Seungyoun is fine with his action films, _thank you very much._

“Preparing food,” he answers, putting his phone on speaker before placing it on the counter. He’s feeling lazy so he forgoes the aeropress. Instead, he dissolves a packet of instant coffee in hot water, watching a tiny whirlpool swirl along with the teaspoon. Mornings aren’t his thing, but coffee makes it bearable at least.

“Should I bring lunch?”

“Hyung, you’ve been bringing lunch for three days already.”

“And?”

Seungyoun lets out a deep breath. If there’s anything he learned about Seungwoo recently, it’s that the older is stubborn as hell. “And you’re supposed to rest. Don’t you have dizzy spells?”

“But I’m bored from sitting all day,” Seungwoo answers, petulant.

“Then lie down.”

“You’re mean, Seungyounie.”

“The last time you came here, you passed out for five hours. I had to call Minhee to check on you,” Seungyoun reminds. 

Seungyoun is used to the sight of Seungwoo asleep on his couch; that’s why whenever it happens, he pays it no mind. On that day, however, Seungwoo was unresponsive despite several attempts to wake him up. Seungyoun notified Minhee, their Flight Surgeon back in Quantum Leap, who rushed in with his medical instruments. In the end, it was confirmed to be fatigue. The adjusting body was overwhelmed from the multiple stimuli occurring all at once.

“I have a better idea—,” Seungwoo starts, but he is interrupted by the doorbell, prompting Seungyoun to leave his phone temporarily unattended. He pads to the door, unhooks its latch and pulls it open.

He almost drops his mug.

“As I was saying, I have an idea. What if I stay here until I’m better? It’s safer to have someone beside me during emergencies,” Seungwoo says, strolling in like he owns the place. He sets down a paperbag on the kitchen counter and takes out its contents: two packs of prinkle chicken and cans of beer. The corner agrees with him—framed by ceramics and windows, he looks as if he’s a permanent occupant of the space.

Seungyoun only nods. He is usually much more articulate than this, but Seungwoo always has a way of rendering him speechless. 

  
  
  
  


**DAY 238 – APRIL 20, 2020**

“How are the lovebirds doing?,” Hangyul teases, elbowing Seungyoun in the ribs. He’s been like this since he got wind of their temporary living conditions. Even after numerous explanations of the setup being over and that they’re back in their respective homes, Hangyul won’t relent. 

“Shut it,” Seungyoun warns, glaring daggers at the younger. It’s not that he’s offended, and Seungwoo doesn’t seem to be the type as well, but awkwardness is the last thing they need.

They’ve become inseparable in the past days. Aside from calls, they would often meet and hang out, talking about everything from sneakers to astrophysics. And they’re comfortable with silence too—evident in how they can spend hours without speaking. Living together, albeit for a short period, changed their dynamics fundamentally. There are almost no barriers between them now, and Seungwoo is one of the few he trusts enough to bare his soul to.

With age comes perception. He understands how their actions can be misconstrued—admittedly, he’s confused himself. But it’s a topic he doesn’t want to breach unless they both feel the urge to do so. A mounting pressure is bound to explode anyway.

Hangyul doesn’t even flinch. “He was happy whenever you talked. His shoulders were shaking so much that whenever we saw him from the back, we thought he was coughing.”

“I said—”

“But really, Seungyoun-hyung,” Yohan says, nibbling on a churro stick. “We’ve been friends with Seungwoo-hyung for a long time. It literally takes him years to build links. It’s different with you.”

Seungyoun takes out a pitcher of orange juice from the refrigerator. He serves it on the table alongside two glasses, neatly placed above coasters. “We clicked,” he simply responds. There is no other answer.

“More like you’re attracted to each other,” Hangyul chimes in.

“Babe, just eat,” Yohan reprimands, stuffing his boyfriend’s mouth with bread. It makes Hangyul choke, and he hurriedly reaches for his drink, spilling juice everywhere. There are crumbs and splatters of liquid all over the furniture. Basically, the kitchen is a mess.

It’s only morning and Seungyoun is exhausted already. “For the love of god,” he complains, pinching the bridge of his nose.

The couple decided to pass by his apartment before doing their groceries. It was early when they arrived, but Seungyoun yielded as they were in his front door already. As expected, the energy is loud and chaotic with them around. Still, he is fond of these two. They’re the rowdy little brothers he never had.

“Let them resolve their issues on their own,” Yohan remarks, face serious but with mirth in his eyes. “They’re older than us. Surely they can manage a bit of sexual tension.”

That causes Seungyoun to turn sharply. He furrows his brows, trying his best to look threatening. “You’re in this too?”

Hangyul clears his throat. “I swear, when they get together someday, I’ll brag about how I was their first supporter.”

It’s a common belief that a friendship’s depth is proportional to its length—that the longer it is, the more weight it carries. It’s true to a point, but it shouldn’t discredit the ones that are still growing. After all, it’s the roots that develop first, and all roots contribute to the nourishment of the ground they’re planted on.

Another bread is shoved into Hangyul's mouth, effectively shutting him up. He chokes on it again for some reason, and Yohan jumps to pat his back, chuckling the entire time. Laughter fills the space, vivid and melodious. Lately, thanks to these people, Seungyoun’s days have become more lively.

  
  
  
  


**DAY 329 – JULY 20, 2020**

Seungyoun is used to a love that brings sparks and fireworks, that’s why when it comes, he doesn’t recognize it at first.

Moonlight streams in through the smudged windows of his apartment. Seungwoo is leaning against him, placid and still. The world is asleep and so is he. Seungyoun studies the shadows on his face, watching it lengthen as the night deepens. In the quiet, he realizes a few things, like how he utterly adores this person beside him.

The heart is a lonely satellite—it’s endlessly searching for a planetary system to belong in. And he thinks he found it now: in Seungwoo’s smiles that translate into constellations, in his hands that spin the most intricate galaxies. Everytime they touch, Seungyoun is reduced to an asteroid collapsing.

 _Tomorrow,_ he pledges, running his fingers through the other’s cherry-scented hair. _I’ll confess even if I’m rejected._

But he doesn’t get to do so. Tomorrow, he is selected to participate in exploration training. The MCC is once again looking for astronauts to send to space, and Seungyoun is one of their prospects. In the next months, he’ll barely have time to talk to Seungwoo, and his words will be lost in the nebula of things that are unsaid.

  
  
  
  


**DAY 421 – OCTOBER 20, 2020**

“How did it go?,” Seungwoo asks, stopping in the middle of the kitchen. He is the picture of domesticity—bangs down, spatula in hand and a stained apron tied around his waist. On the dining table are a bottle of red wine, silver cutlery and two plates with slabs of steak. The effort he put in is evident, and it crushes Seungyoun even more. 

He doesn’t answer the question. Instead, he slumps against the sofa, covering his face with his hands. There are many tragedies in space: shuttle crashes, magnetar quakes, the death of a star. Even as they transpire, the world revolves on. It’s the same with life—adversaries are a part of its cycle. But how many times can a person fail before it’s finally time to give up?

A warm presence surrounds him. The back of his head is gently pushed and his forehead is rested on a familiar shoulder. The first of his tears arrive, burning the backs of his eyes. He doesn’t have any more energy to chase them away so he lets them fall, the frustration of the last ten years racking his body with sobs. 

“What is it?,” Seungwoo says after a few minutes. He lifts Seungyoun’s face up, removing the younger’s hands from his face and replacing it with his own. His expression is gentle, as if he’s trying to coax a fox out of hiding. 

It was supposed to be a happy reunion. Seungwoo volunteered to host today’s dinner in order to celebrate the end of the training. After weeks of not seeing each other, Seungyoun wanted to bring in good news; but apparently, it won’t happen. “I wasn’t chosen for the program,” he miserably admits. Somehow, verbalizing it confirms its finality. 

To be an astronaut is to shoot for the moon. Most wait forever for an opportunity, but that knowledge doesn’t offer comfort in times of helplessness. He’s always been running—he’s bound to get tired at some point.

Seungwoo doesn’t respond. Instead, he tightens his embrace until there’s barely any space between them. His breathing is steady, and his hands are drawing circles on his back. Even without words, there is sincerity. To Seungyoun, this is enough solace.

  
  
  
  


**DAY 513 – JANUARY 20, 2021**

“I really don’t understand why I’m here, Hyung.”

“You don’t have to,” Seungwoo says, holding the stem of his wine glass. “What’s important is that you came.”

“But I don’t know anyone.”

“I don’t either. My relatives are the only ones I’m familiar with.”

“And that’s why I’m here,” Seungyoun adds, rolling his eyes. “For entertainment.”

The place is adorned with ribbons and white flowers. There are crystals hanging from the trees, and a grand three-tier cake stands at the center of the estate. The couple waltzes around the lawn with smiles on their faces, their diamond rings glinting in different hues.

It’s the wedding day of Seungwoo’s eldest sister. The reception is in Walkerhill-ro, located inside a lush garden with a view of the Han River. She looks radiant in her gown, her tiara and veil sparkling. Her tears are visible even from three tables away. 

“Your mother asked if we were dating,” Seungyoun says, taking a bite of the grilled abalone. He honestly expected the question, but in that moment, he was still shocked and he had to cough before responding. Seungwoo’s parents are very kind, albeit a little too intrusive about their relationship. But they’re parents—obviously, the first thing they will do is meddle.

“And what did you say?”

“No?,” Seungyoun asks, puzzled. “Is there any other answer?”

Seungwoo tilts his head to the side, smiling cryptically. His hair is slicked back, and he’s decked in a black suit—complete with cufflinks and a skinny tie. Two silver chains dangle from his left ear, giving him a sharpness that he doesn’t possess on a daily basis. If Seungyoun waxed poetic, he’d say he is otherworldly. But as always, he lets these things stay in his chest. 

He’s bad at speaking from the heart these days; the organ jumbled by uncertainties and decisions he has to make. What he’s longing for is finally here. He’s always been running, and now that it’s time to stop, he is suddenly at a loss on how to proceed. 

He opts to start with what he knows: talking. “Dongwook-hyung told me that the program I applied for was long-term space travel. It’s why I wasn’t considered—they needed experienced astronauts,” he divulges, finishing the last of his meal.

“That’s good then. That means it wasn’t your skills they had a problem with,” Seungwoo replies, wiping the sides of his neck with a handkerchief. He loosens his tie and the top button of his shirt, revealing a peek of the milky white skin underneath.

The sun is setting, painting the city in vermillion and red. In a few, the sky will be black and dotted with celestial bodies that are composed of hot gas. The party is dwindling and soon, it’ll be time to go. Stars are Seungyoun’s specialty—planets, non-Earthly phenomena. At last, they’re within his reach.

“However, I’m assigned to a short space mission.”

He’ll attend to this first. And after he does, he will devote his entirety to take hold of Seungwoo’s heart. 

  
  
  
  


**DAY 618 – MAY 05, 2021**

“Each row will be led by one or two controllers: Song Hyeongjun and Lee Eunsang for the first row, Cha Junho and Nam Dohyon for the second, Kim Wooseok and Lee Hangyul for the third, and Son Dongpyo and Kim Yohan for the last row. We have Kang Minhee as our Flight Surgeon and Han Seungwoo as Capsule Communicator,” Lee Dongwook announces, clasping his hands together.

It’s been a while since Seungwoo last worked for the Mission Control Center. He looks around the area, absorbing every detail of the office he missed. Things haven’t changed—the room is still dim, and only the monitors and switches are its light sources. A mountain of files is stacked on his desk, ready to be deployed in the coming days. Of course, there’s a cup of coffee on the side as well.

Everyone is focused on their screens as they prepare for takeoff. A short exploration program will commence today: _Sputnik X,_ a phased research aiming to address the need for a continuous fresh-food production system in space. It will emphasize on the impact of light and fertilizer on leafy crop growth for a 30-day grow-out, and will monitor microbial food safety, nutritional value, taste acceptability, and the overall behavioral health benefits of having plants and fresh food in space. The project will be run by three crew members at the International Space Station for a month. This time, Seungwoo is lending his service from Earth.

“Forty-five minutes left. Capcom, please contact the astronauts.”

He turns the dials to maximum, establishing a link to the spacecraft. “Good day, Sirs. This is Han Seungwoo speaking, Capcom of Sputnik X. Please update us about your current condition.”

The response is quick. “Good day. This is Cho Seungyoun, Flight Engineer 1. I am strapped in alongside Commander Kim Sungjoo and Flight Engineer 2 Wang Yibo. Our systems are enabled.”

Hearing Seungyoun’s voice eases his nerves a bit. Seungwoo turns to ask Dongwook for permission, and the Flight Director smiles widely, encouraging him to go for it. He is lucky to be acquainted with good people, and he’ll be forever grateful to them.

He returns to the call. “Good to know, Sir Cho. You’ll be launched in forty-five minutes.”

“Copy, Capcom,” Seungyoun says. “Any further instructions?”

“Ah, before I forget,” Seungwoo continues, swallowing the lump in his throat. His fingers are cold, and his legs can’t keep still. Out of the many ways he planned his confession, stating it in front of more than thirty people and in the middle of a space mission isn’t one of them. Still, he pushes on. “I love you.”

“H-huh?,” Seungyoun stutters, bewildered. 

“I love you,” Seungwoo declares more determinedly. In the background, he hears the cheers of his colleagues, with Hangyul’s boisterous laugh on the forefront.

“Are you sure?”

“Why won’t I be? But don’t say it back yet. I want to hear it in person.”

“Who says I feel the same?”

“Youn.”

Seungyoun chuckles. “I’m just kidding. Wait for me, Hyung. I’ll come back to answer you personally. I have a feeling that you know, but you deserve to hear it from me as well.”

“I’ll be here as long as it takes,” Seungwoo promises, turning serious. “Stay safe.” 

He disconnects the line, shifting his attention to assemble the commands to be posted. While something monumental just happened, another one is oncoming, and there’s no time to rest. A part of him regrets not expressing his feelings earlier, but he couldn’t burden the younger who is in the midst of resolving his goals. They’re individuals first, and Seungyoun has dreams that he wants to fulfill. Love can come later. After all, he has no intentions of leaving.

Besides, the mission is only for a month. It’ll pass by in a breeze. In the meantime, he’ll watch Seungyoun through the display screens—maybe disturb him with a call or two.

  
  


**Notes for the Chapter:**

> another chaptered fic done ;__;
> 
> firstly, thank you for reading! i know the technical terms can be discouraging but if you’re here, then that means you pushed through four chapters of them. i tried to write the story in a way that you wouldn’t miss a thing even if you don’t understand any of them (trust me, i don’t understand a lot either) so i hope it worked. they’re basically frills—added to make the setting richer and more immersive. we can’t have a space travel story without a little physics hhhh
> 
> anyway, this fic holds topics that are dear to me. outer space (to be an astronaut was my first childhood dream), office life, being open to changes, solitude, finding comfort in unexpected places. this was honestly written to provide myself some sort of catharsis but i hope you enjoyed it as well. thank you for the kind words :) i hope you’re doing good!


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